


What Happens in Vegas

by fid_gin, unfolded73



Series: The Loved 'verse [12]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fid_gin/pseuds/fid_gin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the threesome enjoy a trip to Las Vegas, the part-human Doctor wonders how he can set himself apart from the Time Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date: March 12, 2010. Beta'd by jfiliberti.
> 
> Written for catyuy, who won me in the Help Haiti auction back in the day. This may seem like it's developing in a way which some of you will probably not approve of, but we ask that you trust us.

He'd been staring at his face in the mirror for far too long.

The part-human Doctor had dragged himself into the en-suite to wash up, ignoring the slightly light-headed, sluggish feeling that came from just having had an orgasm. He'd been delayed in his quest by his reflection. Rose would probably giggle and elbow him in the ribs and accuse him of vanity, but that wasn't what it was. Well, _mostly_ not what it was.

It had been a few weeks since he had shared his mind with Rose and the other Doctor through a rather brilliant bit of improvisation on the Time Lord's part; it had been wonderful, and had brought the three of them together closer than before, but it had also cast into relief that, no matter how similar they were on the outside, he and the other Doctor were very different men on the inside. He was tired of feeling like a living copy, a walking shadow of his other self, and as much as he cared about him, he found himself wanting distance from the other Doctor. Wanting to differentiate himself. At a loss as to how to express it, he'd let his hair grow out a bit and had taken to shaving less frequently, resulting in a near-permanent five-o-clock shadow which Rose said made him look sexy, but which the other Doctor frowned at. He'd stopped short of wearing a different suit, but he'd considered it.

He scrubbed his hands over his almost-beard now, worrying over the dark circles under his eyes that came from a constant sleep deficit. It had only taken once trying to stay awake as long as his counterpart to make it quite clear that he had to sleep some every night. But he slept as little as he could get away with, still feeling like sleep was an awful waste of the little time he had left in his terribly short, human life.

Finally, he twisted the taps open and washed his hands and face in the warm water. Drying off quickly, he returned to his bedroom, wondering if his absence had been noted.

Not by Rose it hadn't, he thought as he took in her sleeping form. She lay on her stomach, her face pressed into the pillow, the slope of her nude back making his breath catch as he looked at her. The sight was so arresting that it took several seconds before he noticed what the man in the bed was doing.

The other Doctor, glasses perched on the end of his nose, was examining a familiar book, turning it this way and that, and the Doctor flushed with embarrassment. He suddenly felt terribly exposed, standing there naked.

"Where did you find that?" he asked, the pitch of his voice coming out much higher than he intended.

His double looked up at him. "Under your bed. Is this _yours_?" He held the pornographic book out, not with distaste exactly, but certainly with confusion.

"What were you doing, rooting around under my bed?"

The other Doctor ignored him, back to flipping the pages of the book. "The pictures aren't bad. Not bad at all." His review given, the Time Lord took his glasses back off. "Where'd you get it?"

"Elstrl'juddst," he responded, the name of the alien moon tripping off his tongue as he picked his underpants up off the floor and pulled them on.

"Ah." The other man stood up then, gathering up the parts of his suit from where they had been discarded in haste, and began to dress. "I can put it in the library with the others," he said as he pulled his trousers on. "It'll make a good addition to the collection." The TARDIS' vast collection of books, gathered over hundreds of years from a vast range of times and planets, did not exclude the occasional pornographic item.

"No, I don't ... you don't need to ..." The Doctor sat down on the spot vacated by his duplicate, feeling flustered. 

"What?"

"I'm still reading it."

" _Reading_ it?" the other Doctor barked out a laugh, and then quickly lowered his voice when Rose snuffled in her sleep. "It's got a total of 500 words in the whole bloody thing."

The Doctor swallowed his embarrassment. This was a man with whom he'd shared literally almost everything; he should be able to speak frankly to him about porn. "I like to _look_ at it sometimes, when I ..." He gestured toward his groin, feeling very stupid.

"Oh." The other man had been in the middle of tying his tie, and his hands froze for a moment before continuing. "I forget sometimes how ... _human_ you are."

"You don't have to make it sound so much like an insult." He pulled the covers up over his body, turning toward the wall and effectively ending the conversation. 

After several long moments he heard the door to the room open. "Goodnight," the other Doctor said softly as he left his human companions to sleep.

 

***

Rose wanted to go somewhere warm. "Don't take this the wrong way," she was saying to the Time Lord in a tone of voice that suggested she assumed that he very likely would take it the wrong way anyway, "But, seems like every time you take us to Earth it's just back home or somewhere else cold and wet. Why can't we go to the beach or something?" She caught her tongue between her teeth. "I'll wear a bikini," she finished, in a promising tone.

The part-human Doctor was watching this exchange with interest. He found himself quite excited by the idea of sun and sand, if he was honest with himself. Maybe it was the part of him which grew from Donna, or maybe it was just needing a change. He'd felt it recently, this nagging desire to do, to be something different. If they went somewhere warm, the Doctor decided, he was definitely wearing a t-shirt. And jeans. He smiled, enjoying the idea. The thought of Rose in a tiny two-piece, slick with sweat and suncream, didn't hurt one bit either. The Doctor in brown didn't look convinced, however.

"Only you humans could get excited at the idea of exposing yourselves to strangers and...and _skin cancer_. At least make it somewhere interesting, like...ooh, like America? Los Angeles, Las Vegas...lots of places starting with 'L,' really. What do you say, Rose: we could give Elvis another try!" The other Doctor grabbed Rose's arm and twirled her out in front of him, singing 'Viva Las Vegas' in an exaggerated Elvis-imitation, his top lip curled in a sneer. She giggled, but also made a face.

"I dunno. Isn't it just like Blackpool in the desert?"

The Doctor in brown looked offended. "What's wrong with Blackpool?" he said, his voice rising in mock-offense.

"Aside from too much booze and noisy fruit machines, you mean?" She shrugged. "Had a bad experience there, once."

The Doctor in blue perked up. "Oh? Do tell."

Rose smirked. "Got pissed and shagged some bloke in the ladies at a club, don't remember the name of it. Couldn't even remember what he looked like, but Shareen said that was probably a good thing. I was hungover for _days_." Both Doctors were watching her with matching gobsmacked expressions. "What?"

"You had sex with a complete stranger?" the part-human Doctor finally squeaked.

"Yeah, so? What, like you've never..."

The Time Lord sniffed indignantly. "We have, actually, but we are hundreds of years old and much, _much_ wiser."

"I'm not," the Doctor in blue said quietly. "And _I_ haven't." The other Doctor looked over at him.

"What do you mean, don't you remember that time on—"

"That's just your memories that I share, it's nothing I've actually done."

"Well there you go," the other Doctor continued as if he hadn't really heard. "As I was saying, we are older, and wiser, and it wasn't with a human. It probably wasn't _even_ what your species would consider _sex_ , though we were quite fantastic at it—"

"Doctor," Rose interrupted. She wasn't speaking to the Doctor currently babbling, and the part-human Doctor shifted uncomfortably as she walked over to him. "Does this bother you?"

He sighed. "I'm not thrilled about the idea of you with other men, but if I could learn to cope with the thought of you with _Mickey_ then I'm sure I can accept this."

"Not that." She was staring at him in that careful, sympathetic way which he sometimes found sweet, but also frequently found condescending. "The whole sharing memories thing. It's like, you've only got..." She seemed to try and mentally tally the time they'd been together, then appeared to give up. "You've only got some of your own, and the rest are his."

"So?" He found himself feeling annoyed. Why wouldn't she just drop it?

"So does it bother you that the stuff you remember isn't stuff you actually did, like shagging aliens or whatever?"

"Well, Rose, since I'm not human and I'm not a Time Lord, you could say I've been shagging aliens for some time now." He could hear the irritation in his own voice, and flinched internally. "I just need to..." He gestured toward the exit of the great room, scrubbing one hand through his slightly-longer hair as he turned and walked out, relieved to leave the subject behind.

 

***

 

"No Elvis, then," she'd stated matter-of-factly as they'd gotten their first sight of the Las Vegas Strip that morning. Electronic signs flashed around them; a Prius' anaemic horn had beeped to tell the Doctor not in blue, but rather faded jeans and a grey t-shirt, that he was dangerously close to being run down, standing where he was, and he'd stepped back to rejoin the pedestrian throng.

Both Doctors had scratched the backs of their necks. "I may have missed Elvis by a few years," her first Doctor had finally conceded, while his counterpart had checked a newspaper box. 

"It's 2010," he'd said, and Rose had smiled, reassuring them that it was brilliant.

Several hours later, she could not remember the last time she'd been so exhausted. The short sprints of running for her life were one thing, but roaming the deceptively traversable lengths of the Las Vegas Strip was something else entirely. The huge casinos and landmarks appeared much closer together than it turned out they actually were, and by the time the sun had begun to drop in the sky and lights everywhere had started to flicker into life, her feet hurt, her back hurt, even her _hair_ hurt. The Doctor in brown expressed profound disappointment when she decided to head back to the TARDIS for at least a short nap.

"But Rose! You have to see the Bellagio fountains at night! Not quite as impressive as the sentient water aerobics in the Python Temple at Glaknoss, of course, but that's a bit exploitative if you really think about it. Would you like _your_ workout routine set to loud music and displayed for a bunch of slack-jawed spectators?"

She ignored this question, too tired to get into a discussion with the Doctor regarding the hurt feelings of intelligent liquids. "Are you even sure the fountains are working again after this afternoon? Honestly, can't we go anywhere without you sonicing something?"

"Thirty minutes between shows is unreasonably long. I just thought I'd...hurry it up a bit, is all."

"I'm pretty sure the water isn't supposed to spray the bystanders like you made it, though." She stifled a yawn against her hand. "Really, just an hour or so. You boys'll be fine without me." Except she wasn't entirely sure if that was true, not only because of her original Doctor's propensity to sonic things he shouldn't and get into trouble, but also because her second, part-human Doctor was decidedly...off. He'd been acting a little strange lately anyway, but since her admission about Blackpool he'd gone all quiet. The Time Lord Doctor had mentioned finding the other Doctor's pornography stash the night before, and while Rose thought that was adorable and not half-sexy, she wondered if maybe he wasn't still a little bit embarrassed.

Rose dug into the front pocket of the jeans he was wearing, enjoying the way his eyebrows flew up and his breath hitched at the intimate action. She had to concede that her awareness of his mood was in no small part due to the fact that she had hardly been able to take her eyes off him all day. The Doctor in jeans and a T-shirt was almost profane, and she'd been surprised how much she liked it.

Plucking out a roll of bills, Rose peeled off an American note with a bold, sans serif twenty on the corner. Her second Doctor's "beginner's luck" at blackjack that morning had already earned them more than enough money for the visit. With a wave to both of them, Rose hailed a cab to take her back to where they'd left the TARDIS.

After the roiling cacophony outside, the pulsing hum inside the ship was soft and soothing. Rose made her way to the bed the three of them shared more often than not, these days. The sheets were cool and comfortable and smelled like the Doctors, and she hadn't even realised she'd fallen asleep until she was awoken by her name being hissed into her ear.

Her part-human Doctor lay next to her. "Oh," he said pleasantly as she groaned and rolled away from him on the bed. "You awake, then?"

"Piss off," she mumbled into a pillow, smiling. "Where is he?" she asked, not needing to clarify who 'he' was.

" _Gambling_ ," the Doctor said, flopping onto his back and crossing his arms up under his head. "We'll probably get a call any minute now that he's been roughed up and dumped in the desert for counting cards or sonicing the roulette wheel or something." There was an exasperated affection in his voice that warmed Rose's heart, and she turned back over toward him, letting one arm slide over his belly.

"So, what're _you_ doing here?" she continued, her voice teasing and her fingers sliding under the grey t-shirt and tickling the light trail of hair leading from his belly button under the top of his jeans. She had to admit: it was a _great_ look for him, and it did things to her. Nuzzling into his neck, she planted a kiss just under his ear, letting her tongue flick his flesh and then breathing hot breath across the wet spot she'd made.

"Thought you were tired," he said, grinning, but he was already reaching for her.

"I'm feeling much better," she rushed out before he captured her mouth in a kiss. She didn't waste any time, her hand darting down to the button fly of his jeans, stroking him through the rough fabric. It was even more confining than the tight trousers he usually wore, and she smiled at his frustrated moan.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Can we ... can we do something?" The Doctor murmured, a hesitant, vulnerable note in his voice.

"What?"

"Just a ... a game I'd like to play."

Rose's grin bloomed full, and she sat up. "What kind of game?"

He flushed and looked away, and Rose reached out to touch his face. "Hey. You can tell me anything, yeah? Ask me for anything."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I thought we could pretend ... you know, that we don't know each other." He moved closer, seeming to warm to the discussion when her smile didn't falter. "I could be a bloke you picked up," he whispered, his lips ghosting over her mouth without touching her, "because you just had to have me. Had to fuck me," he added, his voice deepening on the last.

Rose felt a rush of desire for him. "Okay." She stood up and offered him her hand. When he looked confused, she explained, "I don't think I'd fuck a stranger in the other Doctor's bed."

Rising, he took her hand and let her lead him through the halls of the TARDIS to her own bedroom. "So what's your name?" he asked.

She looked back and grinned at him. "It's Rose. Yours?"

He hesitated before saying simply, "John." 

He had a predatory gleam in his eye as they walked into her bedroom. As soon as the door shut behind him, the Doctor had her pressed up against her dressing table. Rose fumbled for the lights and turned them off, hoping the fantasy would be easier to maintain in darkness. The Doctor's hands were everywhere, his mouth latching onto her throat and sucking. Rose's heart raced as she clutched at him, swept along on the current of his obvious desire. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine that he was a stranger, but it was difficult to lose herself in the fantasy. She felt like she had so much already: two men with whom she was desperately in love, men she wanted so much that the intensity of her feelings still shocked her sometimes. It seemed greedy to even fantasize about anything else. Someday, perhaps, when her feelings for them had cooled, but even though she understood the biology, it was hard to imagine that day would ever come.

The Doctor unfastened her trousers, sliding them and her knickers over her hips and down. Rose kicked them off and scooted back to sit on the edge of the dressing table, the Doctor's hand tickling up her inner thigh to touch her intimately. Her mind spun as she tried to think about what she could say to continue the game. "Saw you across the casino and knew I wanted you," she gasped into his ear. She unbuttoned his fly, finding him completely bare underneath, and she bit back a teasing question about his lack of pants. Instead she gripped his cock firmly in her fist, stroking him from tip to base. "Knew I wanted this inside of me."

She worked him with her hand for a few silent moments, enjoying the motion of his hips, the way he buried his face in her neck and groaned as she reached lower and cupped his balls. Playing into his fantasy, she whispered finally, "Do you have a condom, John?"

"Hmm?" the Doctor moaned, obviously forgetting their game. Seeming to remember suddenly, he pulled back. "Uh, no...I'm, ah, I'm..."

"It's okay," she said quickly, not wanting to spoil the moment. "I trust you." She squeezed his penis gently in her hand, felt him shudder with pleasure. "I just want you to fuck me, hard, right now." 

With a partially-stifled whimper, the Doctor quickly aligned their bodies and pushed all the way inside her. "Like this?"

"Yes." She wrapped her legs around his hips. "God, yes."

He thrust into her fast and hard enough to shake the dressing table. Rose could hear the clatter of various tubes of makeup falling over and rolling onto the floor. The mirror knocked against the wall as he pounded into her. "Do you like that?" he murmured into her ear.

"Love it," she said, and then had to bite her tongue before she continued with _'I love you.'_

The Doctor was grunting with every thrust, and Rose had only a moment to register how fast things were moving before he came suddenly with a pained groan. She was close enough to her own orgasm that she didn't want to give up, but the Doctor soon slowed and then stopped moving entirely. Rose moaned with frustration.

"Sorry," he said, pulling out of her and returning his hand to between her legs. "Are you close?" His fingers slid into her, his thumb working her clit in a rhythm he knew from experience. No stranger could know her so well, she thought, pleasure spiking through her.

"Yes." She gripped his neck and pulled him close for a deep kiss, their tongues tasting each other as the Doctor continued to nudge her closer and closer with his fingers. She moaned with relief as he finally took her over the edge. They continued to kiss, and Rose could sense the shift in the Doctor as the game was forgotten and it was only them again, the Doctor and Rose.

She grinned at him as he helped her down from the dressing table. "Liked that, did you?"

He looked somewhat discomfited as he refastened his trousers. "I guess I did, yeah. Sorry I was so ... quick."

"No worries." She excused herself to the loo to wash up. When she returned to her bedroom, the Doctor was stretched out on the bed, looking straight ahead. She'd often wondered if it were his superior knowledge of space that allowed him to stare so deeply into it when he wanted.

Rose decided she might as well change into a dress, in the hopes that they might all eat at a posh restaurant together that night. An idea had occurred to her in the loo, and as she perused her wardrobe, she debated internally whether to say it out loud. Even as the words spilled out, she wondered if it was a mistake to utter them: "You could do that for real, you know. If you wanted." She didn't look at the Doctor as she spoke.

"Hmm? Do what?"

"Have sex with a stranger."

She heard the bed creak as he shifted suddenly, and she took a deep breath, turning to face him. "You want me to have sex with a stranger." He was clearly incredulous.

"I don't ... _want_ you to, exactly. But if that's an experience that you want to have, I don't want to hold you back."

He opened and closed his mouth, looking a bit like a fish. "It's ... it's like he said, though," he stuttered. "It's something we've done before."

"And _you_ pointed out that it's something _he's_ done before. You only share the memory." She selected a dress and pulled it off the hanger.

"That's all experience is: memory. I was just being shirty before."

Rose walked over and sat next to the Doctor on the bed. "I know, but ..." She wondered why she was trying to convince him of something when she wasn't even sure if she could handle the idea. "You can't tell me that sex isn't different for you, as a human. You've said so, and even if you hadn't, I can tell. And so maybe that's an experience you want to have as a human. Or ..." She reached out and cupped his cheek in her palm. "Or maybe it's a memory you want to make that's yours alone."

He looked confused but not, she was relieved to notice, offended. "That doesn't bother you? The thought of me with someone else?"

Shrugging with one shoulder, she gave a small smile. "'Course it does. But what bothers me more is the idea that you might feel like you're...missing out on something. It's a great life we have, I know you know that, but it's the only life you know. There's a lot of other stuff out there. _Human_ stuff which I think he might not understand, and you might not even understand yet. But it's a possibility, you know?" Leaning over, she brushed her lips across his cheek, enjoying the scratch of his significant stubble. "Forget it. If it's not something you want, then I don't want you to do it." She rose to continue dressing.

"It's an interesting idea." She turned to see he had again laid back and was staring at the ceiling, pondering.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering about our mental images for the characters of Beth and Mark, think an American Sarah Parish and Anthony Head.

The dealer was alternating between eyeing him with suspicion and glancing up at the hidden camera in the ceiling, and the Doctor took that as a clear signal that it was time to go. Gathering his prodigious stack of chips, he left the table and was on his way to the cashier when he bumped into a scantily-clad cigarette girl. He grabbed her arm to steady her, and her long, dark pony tail brushed the arm of his brown suit. Even with her platform heels, she was much shorter than he was, and she peered up into his face with a world-weary expression. 

"Sorry about that," he said, smiling at her.

"No problem." She started to move away.

"Hey, do you want these?" He held up the chips. "I was going to cash them out, but I'm not sure what I'd do with the money if I did. You can have them, if you want."

She gaped at him. "There's gotta be five thousand dollars there."

"Almost exactly; good eye."

"I'm not for sale," she said.

"What? Oh, did you think ...? No, no no no, I didn't think you were a prostitute, I just meant as a gift." He wondered why she didn't sound more offended, if that's what she had thought. She seemed too tired to be properly offended.

Her eyes were very wide. Finally she said, "We're not allowed. Tips are fine, but I'm not allowed to take that much money from a customer."

He held out a chip worth a hundred dollars. "Can you at least take this?"

Her hand darted out and she'd pocketed the chip before he could blink. "Thanks. Have a good night, sir," she said before moving past him.

He was debating the merits of handing the chips out one by one to everyone who looked like they needed a little extra cash when he saw Rose across the casino floor. She was looking around, but hadn't spotted him yet. She had changed into a black dress that swished around her knees as she walked, and the sight of her made him completely forget about the cigarette girl and his winnings, which he absently slipped into a pocket of his jacket. As he approached her, she turned his way and their eyes met. Rose's face split into a wide smile.

"Here comes trouble," she said, taking the arm he offered her.

The Doctor looked around, but saw no sign of his duplicate. "Where's he got to, then? I thought he'd gone to fetch you from the TARDIS."

Rose was leading them over to the bar, a fixed smile on her face. "Buy me a drink and I'll tell you."

The Doctor frowned at the video poker machines that took up every slot at the bar, making it impossible to avoid yet more holes down which one could throw money. It was all well and good for _him_ , with his superior mind, to have a little fun gambling. "Do you know what I really want to do, Rose? I want to round up every patron in this casino, give them a thirty-minute lecture on probability, and send them on their way."

"Yeah, how about you _don't_ do that." They sat down and Rose ordered something large and pink. She didn't say anything else until the bartender set the drink down in front of her and she took a large sip. "He's off to have sex with someone else."

"What? Who's done what now?" He was certain he'd heard her wrong, distracted as he was by pondering the best way to explain expected value calculations to the chain-smoking septagenarian at the end of the bar.

"The Doctor, he's ... I thought he needed ..." She gestured vaguely, then took another sip of her drink. "It made so much sense back in the TARDIS, but now that I'm trying to explain it, it just seems mad."

"Did you say 'have sex with someone else'?"

Rose pointed off to his left. "That rubbish bin looks like a Dalek." 

He glanced at the metallic cylinder covered with gold hemispheres. It didn't look _that_ much like a Dalek, though he saw what she meant. "You're changing the subject."

"He needs an adventure that's just ... _his_ , you know? Such an ordinary human thing, and it was something he'd never done."

"I told you—"

"As a _human_. Something he'd never done as a human. And I just didn't want him to look back on his life someday and have regrets that he never did all those daft, human things. The way he's been acting lately, I thought it might be good for him."

"Daft is right, Rose." His knee was bouncing erratically under the bar.

"I made sure that he had condoms."

"That's hardly the point."

She opened her mouth, probably to ask what the point _was_ , and he had no idea how he was going to answer her. He was angry, and he didn't know why. What difference was it to him, if Rose was okay with it? She appeared to shift gears, and said, "Let's have dinner somewhere posh."

"Just the two of us?" he asked, hearing a petulant note in his own voice and hating it.

"Why not?"

"I thought ... I mean, I'm not really hungry."

Rose boggled at him. "Who are you, and what have you done with the Doctor?"

"Very funny." He paid the bartender for her drink and stood up. "Can we do it tomorrow? I've got some things I wanted to do on the TARDIS tonight." Rose's face fell, and the Doctor felt even more of an arse. But he had a sudden and violent need to get away from this press of humanity – all these people with their needs and desires and weaknesses and the inability to make good decisions while under the influence of alcohol – he desperately needed to get under the console and rip into the wiring and forget about the entire bloody species for a few hours. Rose would just have to forgive him.

 

***

 

The part-human Doctor picked one of Rose's hairs off the sleeve of his blue suit, which he had changed back into before going out. He looked at his distorted reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and wondered if he had too many shirt buttons unbuttoned; he could never keep track of whether humans considered chest hair to be desirable or not. 

He had felt many emotions since he was created. Confusion, elation, ecstasy and fury, certainly all of these. But what he currently felt as he sat in the dimly lit club and nursed his pint was so odd, so completely new that he struggled to give it a name. His eyebrows came together in an intense scowl of disbelief as he finally recognized it: _shyness_. 

The pub ( _bar_ , he corrected himself) was packed with people – most of them good-looking, most of them friendly and chatty with drink. Several of them, he was not oblivious to noticing, had even given him some discreet and not-so-discreet appraising looks. Yet he found he could not quite bring himself to actually _speak_ to anyone, knowing that he was theoretically there with the specific intent to single out someone to shag.

He still wasn't sold on the idea. While the thought of it was exciting, and while the sex with Rose when they had pretended to be strangers had been mindblowing, and while he was not just a little pleased at the idea of doing something outrageous that the other Doctor had not done first, he couldn't say with certainty that he _wanted_ sex with anyone other than those two. They knew him and, after sharing their minds, he knew they loved him. They understood him, knew how to touch him; Rose from experience, and the other Doctor from shared knowledge and nearly-identical likes and dislikes. When he'd first arrived at the club, he'd caught himself seeking out men and women who reminded him of the other Doctor and Rose. After realising this, he instead decided to focus on those individuals who were nothing like them.

There was the waifish blonde girl queueing at the end of the bar with a group of girls whose giggling got exponentially louder the more rounds of shots they ordered. Once or twice he'd looked over and caught her eyeing him and not looking away, but smiling suggestively at him. But her hair was too short and her mates were too loud, and he gave up and looked elsewhere.

Standing next to the jukebox was a tall woman with jet-black hair cut in an almost painfully straight line of fringe falling across her forehead. He could see across the room the deep red of her lipstick and the smoky black eyeliner around her eyes. Deciding to at least go speak to her...well, _shout_ at her, with the music as loud as it was, he started to stand, but a younger, _larger_ man with tattoos and an impressive leather jacket approached her and they began to talk and laugh and flirt, doing that strange mating dance that apparently every human on Earth understood but him.

Sighing heavily, bored, the Doctor ordered another pint. "And one for yourself," he added, throwing a few extra dollars on the bar as the barman passed him the tall, frosty glass.

"Huh?" The man looked at him like he'd not understood a word, and the Doctor wondered if the TARDIS translation circuits were glitching and he was actually speaking Latin or Sycoraxic or something. He pushed the extra money across the counter, and the other man seemed to understand that and nodded in thanks.

Turning back to survey the room, he thought of Rose and the other Doctor, wondered if they were enjoying their evening away from him. A pang of jealousy twinged in his guts as he thought of them making love without him, just the two of them, the way it used to be and the way he wondered if they sometimes wished it still was. Smiling bitterly, he had to admit that he wasn't quite sure if he was more jealous of Rose or the other Doctor. He'd fallen for himself a little...well, a lot, over the past months. It certainly didn't make figuring the three of them out any easier. The Time Lord was the Doctor, Rose was his Companion, and the part-human Doctor still had no idea where he fit between them except in the very literal sense. He couldn't be...no, he wasn't a _companion_ , was he? He had always felt nothing but the highest respect and, quite frequently, awe for his companions, but the TARDIS was still _his_ ship, wasn't it? The attempts to distinguish himself physically from his duplicate had only made the alien part of him more apparent: longer hair and a beard would never change the fact that as soon as he opened his mouth, he was all Doctor. But the other Doctor had just told him yesterday how very _human_ he was, and wasn't that what tonight was all about? Most people only had their sexual identity to worry about, not their species. And his sexual preference was a whole other can of worms he didn't feel like opening, because honestly, when it came to the other Doctor and Rose at least, he could only designate his preference as "Yes, please."

He was strongly considering going back to the TARDIS and forgetting the whole thing.

With a sigh heavy enough that he heard it over the din, a brunette woman took the seat next to him at the bar and ordered a glass of white wine from the bartender. Her voice was low, what one might call smoky – like a slow drink of whiskey, if one were to use such language to describe a woman's voice. She wore a flattering, short dress, and the Doctor estimated her to be around Donna's age; older than his own human age, but not by a great deal.

"Hi," she said, giving him a small wave. She looked pleasant, and friendly, and sipped some of her wine as she crossed her legs at the knee, causing her skirt to ride up, revealing more thigh than would probably be considered decent anywhere else but a Vegas nightclub.

"Hello," he said in what he hoped was a cheerful tone. "Come here often?" he added, and winced. She fluttered her eyes back in her head and placed one hand on her heart dramatically.

"You're _English_ ," she sighed.

"Oh, I'm from...all over, really." _Brilliant conversation so far,_ he chided himself sarcastically.

The woman held out her hand, and he took it. "Beth," she said, simply.

"The Doctor," he answered. He'd toyed with the idea of using John again as he had with Rose, but while the fantasy with Rose required him being something other than 'the Doctor', he'd decided to use his customary name this evening. If Beth thought anything odd about it, she didn't say.

"So, Doctor, what brings you to Sin City?"

"Ummm...business?" He kept his statements brief and vague, worried that after two drinks he might spontaneously start talking about neuroconverters or chromatic leeching or transcardorassic polarity distortion or any of the other huge words floating around in his brain at any given time. Or, worse, his Donna-side might kick in and he could find himself boring the woman with celebrity gossip. "What about you?"

"I live here, actually," she said. "And so you might be asking, what's a local doing mingling with all these tourists?" She rolled her eyes. "I was supposed to meet someone here, but it seems he's stood me up."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He was sure there was something else he could say, something like anyone who stood up a woman as beautiful as herself ... but he couldn't figure out how to phrase it properly before the moment was lost.

Beth waved away his regrets. "It's not a big deal. It's a hazard of the ..." She stopped and shook her head, smiling. "Never mind. You don't want to hear about that."

This time, the sexy phrase came easily. "I want to hear anything that you want to tell me." He flashed her his best half-grin, which Rose had told him more than once was a deadly weapon.

"Before you get too invested in flirting with me, I should probably mention that my husband is sitting at that table over there," Beth said, pointing. The Doctor turned and looked, and saw a very tall man with slightly greying hair give him a brief wave. Thoroughly confused, the Doctor didn't bother to wave back.

"I thought you said you were meeting someone," he said.

"I was. _We_ were. It's a thing we do sometimes, my husband and I. Arrange online to meet a third person for sex." She smirked at him. "That's your cue to run screaming away."

"Pfft. Not much in the universe that will make me do that."

"Then I don't suppose _you'd_ like to come home with us, would you?" The Doctor had been in the process of taking a sip of his drink, and nearly choked. As he was recovering from the unpleasant sensation of foam in his nostrils, she kept speaking. "Sorry, forward I know. I just get sick of tiptoeing around the subject when it's much easier to just come out and ask, don't you agree?"

"Quite," he wheezed, hitting his chest with one fist and still attempting to clear his windpipe. His mind was racing: this was what he'd come out for, and she _was_ very attractive, and he was flattered and curious. And the coincidence didn't escape him, it being a man and a woman together, when that's the sort of sexual interaction he'd become accustomed to.

Could he actually do it? First of all, would he even be attracted to a man who wasn't ... himself? And perhaps more importantly, could he have sex as a human with a woman who wasn't Rose – Rose, who had essentially taken his virginity; Rose, whom he had loved as a Time Lord and loved just as much as a human; Rose, who had _suggested_ this and had sent him out with a kiss on the cheek and a pocket full of condoms? Would she be disappointed if he didn't? Would she be relieved?

"Look, no pressure," Beth was saying. "If you want, you could just come back to our place for a drink and we can see how things go. No expectations on our part, I promise."

And he found himself meeting her smile with one of his own. "Yeah, okay." 

 

***

 

Rose stared down at her cheese on toast with a scowl. Her plans for the evening blown, she'd changed out of her dress and into sweats and made herself something to eat, alone in the TARDIS galley. She tried reading a book, but her eyes passed over the same words again and again without retaining the meaning. She didn't want to admit that her brilliant suggestion might have been a terrible mistake. She couldn't help trying to picture what might be happening, and it made her feel a little bit queasy. 

Eventually, she made her way back to the control room, slumping onto the jumpseat. The Doctor was quiet and tinkering, and Rose knew something was wrong when several minutes passed without him acknowledging her presence. The tinkering was normal of course, but if he were in a good mood he'd laugh and chat and ask her to hand him tools. If something was bothering him, he stayed silent except for the occasional muttered curse when something broke or bent or caught fire.

"Is he going to stay out all night?" he said suddenly, his voice in the silent room making her jump a bit.

"I have no idea," she answered honestly. When she looked back over at the Doctor, she saw he'd given up tinkering and taken up glowering, at her.

"You didn't think to discuss that while the two of you were hatching this brilliant plan, or was he just so anxious to get off with a complete stranger..."

"It wasn't like that," she interrupted, trying to keep her voice calm. She stood and walked over to the console where he was crouched with two handfuls of wire, and bent down to comb her fingers through his hair. The worried crease in his brow did not disappear but he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "You should've said," she remarked softly. "Didn't realise it bothered you so much."

Immediately he twisted his head away and was up and moving around the console in a flurry of agitated motion. "I'm not _bothered_ , I'm fine! Better than fine, brilliant, outstanding, _molto bene_! Are you joking, 'bothered?' This is great: the Doctor and Rose, just like old times, who needs him, eh?"

"Doctor." He froze, snapping his mouth shut and regarding her silently. "What's wrong?"

His mouth opened again and she thought he was about to speak when the TARDIS doors opened and the other Doctor stepped inside.

Her first Doctor turned rapidly and walked toward the back of the ship, but he stopped short of leaving the room entirely. The Doctor in blue watched him warily, and Rose could feel the tension in the room like a palpable force. 

"Where'd you end up going?" Rose asked him. She found herself unable to ask him a more direct question about his encounter.

"A nightclub," he answered, looking uncomfortable.

The Doctor in the brown suit seemed to be pretending that they weren't in the room at all now. He'd gone back to his wiring.

Rose decided the only way to get past the awkwardness was just to talk it all out, so she swallowed her discomfort and walked over to pull the part-human Doctor into a hug. She inhaled, both afraid of and terribly curious if she would be able to smell another person's perfume on him or worse, that latexy smell that she used to associate with sex when she was a teenager. But all she smelled, over the Doctor's own musk and soap and antiperspirant, was cigarette smoke and beer.

"So, tell us!" she said a little too loudly, "Did you pick up a woman or a man?"

"Well, both, actually." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I met a couple who were looking for a third. Spice up the marriage, that sort of thing."

"Oh, well that's just _perfect_ ," the Time Lord said, slamming his sonic screwdriver down onto the grated floor. Rose jumped at the sharp noise, even though she knew he'd been listening and a part of her had been braced for something to happen. "It's good that you were able to go out there and just _replace us_ so easily." 

"Actually—"

"I mean, it's just _sex_ , so it doesn't really matter which bodies you slot into place, does it? Anyone will do, as long as it's a new and exciting conquest." His words dripped with sarcasm and anger, and Rose had no idea what to say. She hadn't expected him to be so ... jealous.

The Doctors stared each other down for a long, silent moment. Then her second Doctor cleared his throat and said, "I was going to say, actually, I didn't go through with it."

The other Doctor's anger seemed to deflate, leaving a sort-of embarrassed confusion. "You what?" 

The part-human Doctor shrugged. "I didn't have sex with them. Went to their flat and decided I just wasn't into it. We all talked for awhile, and then they gave me a lift back. _Lovely_ couple, actually. The thing is ..." He turned and began to pace, the way either of the Doctors did when they were thinking through a problem, "Beth and Mark...Mark was the bloke's name, nice guy, _hell_ of a Trivial Pursuit player. Anyway, they've been together a long time, and they've learned that this is what works for them, bringing a third person into their bed. Strengthens their relationship, they said. Keeps it exciting. And fair play to them, they're still happily married after twenty years. But I just thought, well, what am _I_ doing this for? It's not to strengthen what _we_ have," he said, stopping his pacing to gesture among the three of them. "It was to set myself apart. And actually, when it comes to sex, setting myself apart from the two of you is the last thing I want to do right now."

"I'm sorry," Rose said, feeling a mixture of guilt and elation. "I was trying to give you something I thought you might need, but I guess I screwed it up."

"No, you didn't. You absolutely didn't." He kept speaking as he stepped around the Doctor in brown and walked back toward Rose. "Because I needed to really think about this, about _us_. I spent an hour just sitting in that bar, watching people, lonely people trying to find someone to make them feel a little less lonely, and I realised how unaccountably _lucky_ I am to have you." He turned to glance at his duplicate, to make it clear he was including both of them in his statement.

"Beth and Mark have a relationship that works for them," he continued. "Including someone else, I guess it makes them more than what they were." His eyes bored into hers, never ceased that seductive stare that was all smouldering brown eyes, penetrating her, making her knees weak. "And it just hit me like a bolt from the sky. That's what this relationship is – it makes me more than what I am." The Doctor was very much in her personal space now; his hands slid down to her hips, roaming over her ass then pulling her roughly against him, and she gasped both at the sudden motion and at the feeling of his erection where it strained against the front of his trousers. "There's only two people I want to have sex with. And they're not strangers in a club."


	3. Chapter 3

Rose felt another pair of arms go around them, circling the Doctor in blue and sliding under his arms, another pair of hands coming to rest over his on her hips. Her Time Lord Doctor met her eyes over the shoulder of the other, and she saw relief, desire, and dissipating jealousy there. She knew they would likely never speak of his reaction of a few minutes before, but that was okay, and she gave him a gentle smile which he returned before his eyes closed and he leaned forward to kiss the back of her second Doctor's neck.

They stood for several minutes, caressing, kissing, hands growing more bold and breathing growing more laboured. The Doctor in blue slid his hand past the drawstring waist of her trousers and down the front into her knickers, his fingers slipping easily through her wetness and rubbing her clit as she bucked her hips against his hand. He threw his head back, baring his throat further to the Time Lord behind him whose hand come to rest at the front of his trousers, rubbing the length of him through the thin fabric. "Bedroom," Rose finally managed to gasp.

"Which one?" he asked, his voice low and throaty.

Her second, metacrisis-born Doctor's room turned out to be closest. The three of them were almost bashful as they made their way through the TARDIS halls; though they had adjourned to a bedroom together for this purpose many times over the months, it seemed heavier this time, more poignant, with the part-human Doctor's confession and the other Doctor's jealous tantrum hanging out in the air. Rose felt as though she were walking through a fog, passing through time even inside the time machine they called home, and suddenly they were there, the room dark and cool, the coral walls of the ship pulsing with dim iridescence.

Their apprehension vanished immediately once the door was closed and the Doctors were on her, at her front and at her back, nearly indistinguishable in the dark except for the scratch of her second Doctor's facial hair and the many other slightly more subtle differences she had catalogued in her time with both of them. That was the Doctor in brown in front of her, her Doctor with two hearts and cooler skin, pulling her t-shirt over her head and burying his face between her breasts. That was the Doctor in blue behind her, her dear second Doctor with one heart and warm lips pressed to her shoulder, unfastening her bra and reaching around her to cup her breasts as the other Doctor continued to nuzzle between them. It was always overwhelming being between them like this, and occasionally she felt a little bit as though she were sitting in a car with no brakes and no driver at the top of a very steep hill. It was breathtaking, and almost too much.

They seemed to sense her thoughts and moved on to their own clothing once Rose was bare. Moments like this she cursed the lack of light, as the experience of watching the Doctor, _either_ Doctor, as his suit was removed piece by piece and his body exposed to her, was incredible. Even better when they undressed each other as they were doing now, her identical lovers, a silhouette in the low light of one reeling the other in by his tie and the two of them kissing deeply as two pinstriped suits became two piles of blue and brown crumpled on the floor.

Naked, they turned their attentions back to her. "On the bed," was hissed in her ear and she complied, lying on her back with her arms above her head, hands grasping for something, anything to hold on to. Christ, they'd barely even _touched_ her yet. She gripped the bars of the headboard as her knees bent and her legs fell apart. The Doctor – her first Doctor, she could see the outline of his hair and his face was smooth when he kissed her – lay next to her. "So beautiful," he whispered, running one hand over her body. "You have no idea how _exotic_ you are to me, Rose." She could feel the other Doctor climb onto the bed and over her as the first continued to whisper in her ear, could feel his lips on her belly and then lower, the inside of her knee and then higher, teasing his way up then finally tasting her properly, the scratch of his whiskers tickling the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs as he licked her.

Rose writhed under his attentions. She found that she was still slightly embarrassed, even after everything they had done, at how wanton they could make her, her hips rising off the bed over and over, pleas and gasping cries falling from her lips. She was unbearably close in no time at all, and the only reason she hadn't climaxed already was that the Doctor between her thighs was going purposefully slowly, drawing out her pleasure, nudging her closer and closer with each swipe of his tongue. She reached down to clutch his head and felt the Time Lord's hand already there, long fingers threaded among her second Doctor's soft brown locks.

The feeling was too good – falling, she was falling and they were holding her up, holding her down, teasing her apart and devouring her and asking for seconds. His lips to her neck and his tongue keeping pace with that of the other Doctor, and she came suddenly and helplessly, her body wracked with shudders. Her first Doctor continued purring in her ear, telling her how much they loved this, loved her.

After a moment he slipped away, and she became aware as reality started to bleed back in around the edges that her second Doctor had withdrawn from his spot between her legs and moved up the bed to join his counterpart. They were entangled next to her, kissing passionately from what she could hear and just barely make out in the near-blackness of the room. Shifting to lie close enough to them to reach out and touch them but not close enough to restrict their movements, Rose fumbled blindly downward until she found one Doctor's hand, the part-human Doctor's she guessed by the warmth of his skin, curled around the other Doctor's cock. She kept her hand over his as he stroked, could tell from his breathing and whimpering and the tangle of arms that the same was being done to him.

"Please," she heard one of them whisper to the other, "fuck me."

Her heart hammering, Rose retreated slightly, afraid of being an impediment to what was happening between them. Then there was the feel of movement on the bed, the sound of the nightstand drawer opening and closing and the snap of a plastic lid, followed by the sticky sounds of lubricant being applied, more kissing and a ragged curse from one of the Doctors. After a few moments they changed position again, one moving to lie behind the other. There was a long, almost-pained groan as the Doctor behind slowly penetrated the other man. Still trying not to crowd them, Rose reached out and felt from the stubbled cheek of the Doctor in front which one he was. His eyes were closed, she could feel, and he turned into her touch and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her palm, his body nudged forward every few seconds by the other Doctor's thrusts, each one making both men cry out. She was fascinated: she knew they had done this before, but not in her presence, and she thought of calling up the lights so she could see better...but maybe the darkness was part of it, part of why they were willing to share in this kind of intimacy in front of her, now.

"Rose," the Doctor behind gasped. "Give me your hand." She slid her palm down the part-human Doctor's side until she reached the other's hand where it gripped his double's hip, holding him in place as he continued to move inside of him. Her first Doctor threaded his fingers through hers, guiding her hand between the other Doctor's legs and encouraging her to grasp his cock. Rose began a slow rhythm with her hand as she moved closer to them, curling into the front of the Doctor and kissing his throat. His moans vibrated his skin against her lips.

Her second Doctor clutched at her, throwing his head back against his double, lost to sensation. Rose wanted to ask him how it felt, wanted to hear his sexy babble when his control was in such shreds, but something about the moment made her hold back and just enjoy it in silence. It wasn't long before he cried out hoarsely, and she could feel his cock pulse in her hand, could feel the warm wetness of his semen on her belly. 

The Doctor behind was murmuring into his duplicate's ear, talking him through his orgasm, yet not losing the rhythmic pursuit of his own pleasure. Instinctively, she reached out to touch his face, and gasped when the Time Lord's hand darted up to catch hers, bringing it to his mouth. He licked the traces of the other Doctor's orgasm from her fingers, pulling each of them into his mouth in turn and seeming to savour the taste. Rose felt heat coil deep in her abdomen at the sensation, and found herself wondering how soon the Doctors would be willing to go again. 

Rose moved her hand from the Doctor's mouth and threaded her fingers into his hair, holding on as his thrusts became erratic. The Doctor between them held her tightly, breathing against her neck as the man behind him crested into his orgasm with a muffled curse and a groan against his duplicate's shoulder.

It was a long time before anyone moved. Rose and her part-human Doctor were kissing, his fingers making leisurely trails up and down her hip. She continued to comb her fingers through the other Doctor's hair, who stayed pressed against her second Doctor's back, holding both of them as close as he could. Eventually Rose went to the loo to clean herself up, and when she returned to the bed, she could already hear one of the Doctor's soft snores. She didn't need to wonder which one it was.

She snuggled up to her first Doctor, not feeling particularly sleepy herself. "He came back to us," she whispered.

"He never really left." He stroked her cheek. "As if he could. He's so in love with you, he doesn't know whether he's coming or going most of the time."

"Oh, _he_ is, is he?" she asked, smiling against his chest.

"Welllll ... it's possible I only know that because I'm rather an expert on the topic of being in love with you." His voice was light, but Rose felt his body tense as he said the words. It was still hard for him to say out loud, even in a roundabout way.

Rose planted a loud kiss on his breastbone. "I love you, too."

 

***

 

The Doctor awoke muttering, his fingers clawing at the sheets tucked around him. It was the same nightmare as always: the lingering sounds of explosions in his ears and the tang of burning Dalekanium in his nose. Hands seized his arms and he fought furiously for a moment until he came fully awake and realised it was the other Doctor's hands pulling him close and holding him.

"You're all right. Nightmares," the other Doctor whispered. "One of the many reasons I don't regret never sleeping."

The part-human Doctor felt his breathing returning to normal as he lay in the arms of the man he used to be. The two of them had worked out that the nightmares were a symptom of the new chemistry of his brain and of his body trying to cope with the act of sleeping where he never did before, and the dreams had tapered off since he came into being, but when they returned they were still bad. "Where's Rose?" he asked weakly, having noticed the empty space on the other side of the bed.

"She got up a bit ago...glass of water or something. I could go get her?"

He was moved by the offer, but shook his head, rolling onto his back. "No, it's fine." He regarded his duplicate for a moment. "Surprised you're still in bed."

"I'm comfortable!" The other Doctor wiggled on top of the bedclothes, demonstrating this. "Just because I don't sleep like you doesn't mean I can't enjoy a bit of a lie down."

"Well, I'm cold. Shift," he instructed, and waited until the other man had crawled under the covers before settling himself beside him. They turned toward each other, and their lips met in a slow kiss, the other Doctor's fingertips running over the dream-teartracks still drying on his cheeks. The kiss deepened, heads turning and tongues meeting, until the other man winced and pulled away.

" _Really_ ," he said, running his hand over his face. "The beard has _got_ to go."

They lay there in silence for several minutes. "I'm sorry," the part-human Doctor finally said.

"Oh, keep the beard if it means that much to you."

The Doctor laughed. "No, that's not ... I should have ... I guess Rose and I sort of made an executive decision without consulting you. I'm sorry about that."

"Doesn't matter," the other Doctor said, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

"It would matter to me, if our roles were reversed."

"That's because, as I believe I said before, you're so very human."

"That isn't why." He reached out and touched the other man's face. "It would matter to me because ... because of the way I feel about you."

His double swallowed awkwardly, but before he could say anything, Rose came back in. She was wrapped in a dressing gown, carrying a half-empty glass of water. "You can't sleep either?" she asked him. "I think it's something they pump into the air in those casinos."

"Bad dream," he said simply. Rose gave him a sympathetic smile, and dropped her dressing gown before climbing back into bed and hugging him. 

"If I _had_ gone through with it," he eventually murmured against her hair, "What would have happened to us? The three of us?"

She pulled out of his embrace and sat up against the headboard. "I'm going to say something really weird, and I don't want you to freak out, okay?" He nodded carefully. "I think you're growing up." She took in the expression on both of the Doctors' faces and laughed. "Okay, that's...a creepy way of putting it, I know. But it's like all these things, the beard and the hair and the porn and all that, you're just trying to find your independence. I did some mad things when I was figuring out who I was, like the whole Blackpool thing. If you need to do something mad, then we'll support you through that." She frowned. "Nothing _too_ crazy though, yeah? No piercings or tattoos or cutting off all your hair?" 

He gave her a serious look. "I'm thinking of shaving." Rose pretended to be shocked and to pout for a minute, and he added: "You could help?"

"Oh, let the Doctor do it," she said with a gleam in her eyes as she winked at the other man. "He hates your facial hair so much, it'll make his century." When the other Doctor made like he was going to get out of bed right away to get a razor, Rose added, "In the morning, after we've had some sleep." She settled back down, curling up next to him and sighing. "Oh, and by the way. You both owe me a posh meal at a restaurant tomorrow."

"Posh meal, check," he replied.

"And I wouldn't say no to a night in a hotel suite. Do we have enough money for that?"

"Not a problem," the other Doctor said. "Any hotel you want. Although, do you want to stick to this time period? Because I was thinking we might try again for Elvis—"

"No," he and Rose responded simultaneously, and Rose added, "Maybe there's a reason we can't intersect with Elvis. Maybe it would ... blow up the world or something." 

"Oi, who is the lord of time, here?" the other man asked, but he dropped the subject and rolled toward them, throwing his arm over their bodies and closing his eyes. The Doctor lay between his lovers, and before long had sunk into a blissfully dreamless sleep.


End file.
